The Night of Broken Glass
by LittleDuckButtercup
Summary: When Katniss escapes the clutches of the Nazis on the night of Kristallnacht, she has nothing to do but wait in fear of the day they find her again. When she ends up in the attic of a man who seems to make a habit of saving her, she learns there can be more to life than fear. But is it worth the risk to let him in when her days are numbered and she doesn't know who to trust?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Hello! This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic, so please leave some feedback if you can! I'd love to work on my skills, and I think the best way to do that is through practice and reader feedback. I do not have a beta, so I apologize for the errors I'm sure are lurking around here.  
All right, on to the story. I was particularly inspired by Max's backstory in The Book Thief by Zusak, so I attempted to combine TBT with Hunger Games characters and a bit of my own ideas. I'm sure there are Nazi Germany HG fics out there already, but I hope you can enjoy this as well.

And one final note, last names have been changed to fit in with the time and place. (Mellark will make an appearance eventually!)

**The Hunger Games is owned by Suzanne Collins. The Book Thief is owned by Markus Zusak.**

There was a time when everything was good.  
To the children playing ball in the sticky heat of summer, the biggest worry was getting home for dinner on time. Perhaps it's best they never knew what was smoldering on the horizon. Children have a right to live without fear.  
Unfortunately for the children growing up in the midst of two world wars, that luxury was revoked.  
For all of her young life, people were people and that was the end of it. It wasn't until she was eleven-years-old, Katniss realized she was different from her best friend. And nothing would be the same again.

"I'll race you home," Gale said. "Ready? One, t… " and he was off like a shot down the street.

"Hey!" Katniss shouted in protest, but her feet were already carrying her swiftly down the asphalt.

Gale was two years older, two years stronger, and two years bigger. And he was always leaving her behind. She learned how to adjust quickly, though. Her lithe frame was fast and she soon conditioned her lungs and muscles to outrun even the fastest kid in the schoolyard, which Gale was not.  
She passed him that night within seconds and kept going all the way to his front porch. She even had an extra minute to set herself down on the chilled cement step and act as though she had been waiting for hours.

"About time you showed up," she said as he rounded the corner.

Gale collapsed in half at the waist, hands on his knees. "God damn, kid," he panted, nearly wheezing.

Katniss cocked her head to the side. "That's what you get for cheating," her voice lilting as if in song. She sat up straight, taking on a scowl and more serious tone. "And don't call me 'kid'."

After catching his breath and soothing a bit of the burn in his throat, Gale walked Katniss down three houses to her own home. He was half-listening to her recap of the day in school when he saw the ugly red paint splashed across her front door. He moved to shield her from it, to keep walking, but it was too late. Her innocent eyes already lighted upon the Jewish slur angrily marking her home.  
Unwarranted hatred had been running rampant through Germany since 1933, but once the Nuremberg Laws were enacted earlier that year, there was no stopping it.  
But it had never followed Katniss home before.

The sloppy red curses momentarily vanished as the door swung inward and Mrs. Ehrlichmann appeared in its place. She carried a bucket of soapy water and a sponge in her hand. The paint would never wash out that way, but it would at least fade the hatred until they could save up for a can of fresh white paint.

"Oh, Katniss, you're all right," Mrs. Ehrlichmann exclaimed at the sight of her daughter and rushed to pull Katniss into her arms. The water sloshed in her bucket, but only a few soap bubbles spilled over the side.

Katniss' father was a fighter pilot in The World War. Despite being injured and taken prisoner, he made it home safely where he recovered and began to hope for a better future. When he was killed in a plane crash years later, his wife and two-year-old Katniss were left to fend for themselves, clinging to the dreams he so wished for. Her mother was plagued by depression, but was generally able to pull herself together enough for her only daughter. On the days she couldn't quite vanquish the monsters in her head, Katniss stayed home from school and took care of her. She liked the responsibility, and wasn't even that scared anymore when her mother seemingly checked out of the world.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" Katniss' voice was muffled in the fabric of her mother's dress.

Mrs. Ehrlichmann sighed. "I am now."

"Who did this?" Gale demanded.

"Who knows?" Mrs. Ehrlichmann released her daughter. "But I have a feeling it will only get worse from here."

And right she was.

Mrs. Ehrlichmann's small apothecary shop, their only source of income, was all but deserted in the coming months. No one willing to give their business to a Jew, despite the fact that she was the best in the entire area.

They were hungry. Starving. And there was nowhere to find food. No one would serve them. Gale did his best to sneak scraps to them, but with his large family, there were rarely any leftovers to spare. Katniss could no longer keep up with the boys at school during recess. It was all she could do to drag her feet along as her body seemed to shrink, her cheeks hollowing, ribs easily counted through her sides where a good layer of muscle used to be.  
One night as she wandered around town, shivering in the icy sheets of rain, she wondered why exactly any of this was happening.

She thought of Gale, of his similar dark hair and gray eyes. He could have been her brother. And yet, he was still held in as high regard as ever while she and her mother wasted away. Why was he part of the Hitler Youth and she wasn't? Why could he move up in school and she couldn't? Why could he walk into any store he wanted, greet the shopkeep with a 'heil Hitler', and buy whatever he needed? Why couldn't they be seen together in public anymore?  
It's because he's a Catholic, her mother tried explaining to her once. But Katniss couldn't understand how that possibly factored into anything.

The rain fell hard and pierced her thin skin like needles, but she couldn't work up the energy to move on. She was entranced by the aroma of cinnamon and fresh bread floating from the bakery in front of her. Before she had time to think about what she was doing, she walked up the steps and into the warm building. On the counter sat a large box filled with bread loaves and rolls. And no one to guard or claim it. She glanced around and dashed for the box. It was barely within her grasp when she heard the shrill sound of the baker's wife behind her. She and Gale heard it often over the years whenever they passed by. She was always screaming about something or another. And now her anger was directed squarely at Katniss.

"What do you think you're doing, you filthy little Jew?" she exclaimed.

"I… I," Katniss stuttered, flinching away as the woman entered her line of sight.

"She was holding that for me, mom," a young boy said. It was a voice Katniss recognized from school. The blue-eyed boy with the blond curls who always sat near her in music class. Katniss turned her head to confirm the source of the voice. Peeta. He was still in his Hitler Youth uniform from that afternoon. Katniss barely had time to wonder why he was covering for her when his mother's hand smacked him across the face. He didn't even stumble or stutter over his next words. "My hands were full and she was in here looking around, so she helped me. She wasn't stealing," he asserted. Katniss knew she should run, but felt frozen in place.

"You should know better than to hand anything over to this trash," Mrs. Mellher all but spit at him. She turned to Katniss and ripped the wet paper box from her grasp. "You're not welcome here, girl." She pushed the box at Peeta. "Go feed this to the pigs. She's ruined it all." Mrs. Mellher dashed off into the kitchen to tend to something burning, but not before slinging curses at Katniss to get out before she called the cops.

Katniss turned to run, tears stinging her eyes when she felt a hand firmly wrap around her arm. She winced, preparing for a hit when Peeta wheeled her around and thrust the box into her arms.

"Go. Now," he whispered harshly. "Run."

She didn't need to be told twice. She took off running with more energy than she'd had in months. This treasure chest he had given her would save both her and her mother, she knew. She didn't even give herself time to wonder why the boy in the Hitler Youth uniform would risk worse than a beating from his mother just to save her. All she could think was thank you. Thank you. Thank you.  
When she finally got to her street, the sight of a bright yellow dandelion poking up through the brown grass actually made her smile. It was like a tiny, tangible ray of sunshine, just like Peeta himself.

If only that feeling could have lasted forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow thank you so much for all of your follows, favorites and reviews on the first chapter! I hope you continue to enjoy it! I won't normally be able to post every day, but I had the day off and your responses made me want to post some more! **

**The Hunger Games is owned by Suzanne Collins**

2  
_Crystal Night_

Peeta's kindness sparked something within her.  
The night she brought the bakery box home and saw the hope on her mother's face, the full bellies they both had that night, she knew she had to keep fighting.

She was only two years old when her father was killed in a plane crash, but he left plenty of himself behind for Katniss to learn from. Although he was a pilot and spent most of his time in the sky, he had a great love of the wilderness, and compiled notebooks full of information from his hiking trips. Katniss poured over each of them before taking herself out into the woods and gathering all the edible roots, berries, and nuts she could find.

She soon realized that her findings could be traded in the dark of night at the back doors of others willing to risk it. Gale was essential in this. He could figure out who would be interested in trading a serving of fresh meat for a bowl of strawberries without raising suspicion, and then pass the names and addresses along to Katniss. She was surprised to find the Mellher Bakery on Gale's list one day.

"I can't go back there!" She insisted as they hid high in a tree in the middle of the woods. It was the only place they could be together anymore.

"You don't want fresh bread?" Gale wondered, mouth full of strawberries. He swiped the juice from his chin with the back of his hand.

"She'll kill me," Katniss said. She picked at the bark, peeling it away in layers until she found the fleshy interior of the wood.

"Mr. Mellher said come early in the morning, before dawn. He and Peeta will be up getting the bakery ready for the day. His wife won't even be awake yet." Gale paused to assess the look of concern on Katniss' face. "He's a good guy. I think you can trust him. He wants blueberries for the muffins, and he said they're getting very expensive lately." Gale peered down through the canopy of branches and leaves. Aside from the occasional rustle of a squirrel, they were alone. But he needed to be sure. No one knew he and Katniss met up in the woods. No one had any reason to come out here at all, but he dropped his voice to a whisper just to be safe. He could never quell the feeling that he was being watched everywhere he went. "Mr. Mellher doesn't believe in Hitler the way his wife does. He sees that something is wrong."

"A lot of people see that something's wrong," Katniss said, "But that doesn't change anything."

"Well, it can get you some food. And that's all that matters right now," Gale said. "Just be careful. Don't try to do anything while the sun is up." He climbed down the trunk and dropped to the ground, late for his Hitler Youth meeting.

Wild blueberries were abundant in the stretch of woods Katniss combed through every day. When she finally braved the bakery, she was met with Mr. Mellher's kind face and a box of treats that seemed much too abundant for the amount of berries she had given him.

The bakery became a regular stop, and sometimes it was Peeta who answered the door. But he barely looked at her, and seemed uncomfortable with the entire situation, so they didn't speak. They exchanged their food and Katniss went on her way. She knew she needed to thank him, but it never felt like the right time. And what if Mr. Mellher didn't know what Peeta had done for her that day? His father was always present during their trade, and she didn't want to get Peeta in trouble again.

As years went by, that day farther in the distance, Katniss all but gave up on trying to work in a 'thank you'.

On her fourteenth birthday, she found a few extra cheese rolls in the bottom of the bread box. Still warm. She wondered if Peeta knew it was her birthday, or if the cheesy bread was her favorite. Of course, he would have no way of knowing either of these things, but she liked to hold onto the thought that he did.

And then came November 9th, a day that began like all the rest. And ended in Hell.

Katniss clung to her mother on the living room floor, listening to the screams outside as their neighbor's home was ransacked by the Nazi party. Her mother switched on the radio, which was flooded with excitement and confusion over the riots. It was everywhere. Synagogues burned to the ground. Shattered storefronts of Jewish businesses. Then they moved on to residences. Cemeteries were ravaged, grave sites vandalized. Jews beaten and captured.

Katniss screamed as a brick sailed through the window and sent a shower of glass shards all around them. Her mother pulled her to her feet, ready to run, but they didn't get anywhere before the front door flew open. At first, all that registered in Katniss' mind was the Nazi uniform through the blur of her tears. But there was Gale's voice. "I've got her," Katniss heard as he was pulling her into his arms.

"Get her out of here," her mother cried.

"No!" Katniss screamed and writhed in Gale's firm grip. "Mama!"

"Shh!" Gale clamped his hand over her mouth.

"I love you," her mother whispered before Gale disappeared out the backdoor and crashed through the woods.

He didn't release his hold on on her mouth as he ran, and he whispered through his labored breaths. "You're going to be all right. I found you somewhere safe."

Katniss wasn't sure how long Gale weaved through the woods, but he showed no signs of stopping until he pushed through the side door of what appeared to be a clothing shop.

Hitler stared at her through a golden frame on the wall as Gale kicked open a section of loose floorboards and carried her down the steps beneath.

He pulled a chain above his head and a single bulb dimly illuminated the dusty space. He set Katniss down and she hugged her arms around herself.  
"It's not much, but Liesel will keep you hidden. She runs the store. I'll bring you food and water. The bathroom's upstairs, so you can only use it when the shop is closed."

Gale kept talking, but Katniss couldn't concentrate on his words. She glanced around the space. It was long but narrow. She could touch the opposite walls with her arms extended. The floor was cold and rough beneath her bare feet- cement with just a blanket tossed in the corner and a small radio beside her. She wondered if she would ever see the sunlight again.

"What about mama?" she asked quietly.

Gale picked up the blanket and shook it before laying it out across the floor. Katniss knew she wasn't imagining his avoidance of her stare. "They had to find someone," he muttered. "Or they'd keep looking."

Katniss' brow knitted together. "So you just left her there? To die?" she shouted and Gale's hand was over her mouth again. She screamed and tried to fight him off, to hit him and make him pay for leaving her mother there to be killed. But her screams died against his palm and he was too strong to be affected by her punches. Realizing it was pointless, she collapsed against him in tears.

kpkp

Crystal Night. That's what they called it on the radio. They made it sound so glamorous. It was revolting. _Kristallnacht_, she scoffed as she paced around the basement. Why not call it what it was? Murder. Savage attacks on innocent people. It was all Katniss could do not to hurl the radio across the room, but she knew it was her only connection to the outside world.

Her days melted together. She was right to wonder about the sun. It was gone. She tried to conjure the feeling of its warmth on her face in the cold, dark room. At night, when she crept upstairs for the restroom, she braved opening the window to remember what fresh air was like. The moonlight was beautiful, but all she craved was the precious sun. Visions of that hopeful dandelion appeared from time to time, which always led to Peeta.

She wasn't sure why she thought of him so often. They really weren't even friends. She would probably never see him again. But the thought of his face never failed to comfort her as she drifted off to sleep. He was that ray of sunshine she needed to lead her through the darkness.

And somehow, nearly a year had passed since Gale carried her to safety. He promised he was trying to find out what had become of her mother, but each day gone with no lead lessened the possibility even more.

She kept the radio off with increasing frequency. She preferred being alone with her thoughts to hearing of the atrocities around her. The morning she decided to turn on the radio again, she learned of the full-fledged war Germany was now tangled in.  
And she knew there would be no going back home ever again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: For anyone unfamiliar with "HJ" when Gale mentions it: HJ refers to Hitler Youth (Hitlerjugend in German). Thanks for all of your interest and words of encouragement! This chapter is twice as long as the others and will probably remain this length from now on. It was hard to judge how much to fit into a chapter, but I'm getting the hang of it :) Peeta's finally here to stay! Enjoy**

**The Hunger Games is owned by Suzanne Collins **

3  
_Sweet Reprieve_

"Some new clothes for you, dear," Liesel's voice called Katniss out of her haze.

She broke her staring contest with the wall and looked down at her clothing. Her once long sleeves rose halfway up her forearms, the cloth riddled with holes. Her pants had long since been ripped into shorts, but they were beginning to pinch at her hips. Despite poor nutrition, some parts of her body seemed determined on developing into a woman.

Katniss took the small pile of clothes from Liesel's arms. "Thank you," she said, her voice meek and tired. She hadn't had a change of clothes in months, and the soap in the bathroom sink did little in the way of cleaning fabric. It was harsh and weakened the threads more than anything.

The soft, warm sweater and cotton pants in her hands were more luxurious than anything she had ever been given since she arrived at Liesel's. There was also a pair of white tennis shoes on top of the pile. Katniss didn't see the need for sneakers, but she wasn't about to question them.

She had given up feeling guilty for not earning her keep, because Liesel categorically refused to accept it. Katniss did her best to at least sweep and straighten the racks at night when she went upstairs to wash up. For all that Liesel was risking for her, Katniss wished there was more she could do. There was simply nothing to be done that wouldn't chance being caught. Katniss promised herself, if she ever escaped, to never accept charity again as long as she lived. Which she knew could be but hours or days.

XxXx

The new clothes felt like heaven against her skin. She hadn't realized how perpetually cold she was until the lush fabric wrapped around her body. Katniss snuggled into the neck of the sweater and pulled the wool blanket around her shoulders. She decided she felt safe enough to switch on the radio again.

Bombings. Raids. A rising death toll. And, of course, overzealous praise for their fearless leader. The news broadcast signed off with the date and time, and Katniss had to think for a moment why the date sounded so familiar.

_My birthday. Sixteen_, she thought. What a way to celebrate.

She was awakened by Gale's hand on her shoulder. She sat up and wondered how long she was out. Katniss rubbed the sleep from her eyes and focused on Gale's face. He looked strong and healthy, but the dark circles and pain in his eyes told a different story. He looked lost, sad. The fire that always burned within him seemed to be flickering to embers.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"What's not?" Gale scoffed.

They sat in silence for a moment before he drew a long breath in preparation for what was to come next.

"I have to leave," he said. "They're shipping me off to Poland."

Katniss let go of her blanket and planted her palm firmly on the cold cement floor as the room spun around her. "What? No!" She was sure she would throw up if she had more than a slice of bread in her system.

Gale shrugged. "I'm old enough to be a soldier now. I knew it was coming. It's what the HJ prepared us for. I'm surprised it's taken this long for them to assign me somewhere." He could see the tears in Katniss' eyes threatening to spill over. "Look, you're going to be okay. I found somewhere new for you. Someplace that will be safe when I'm gone." He pressed a slip of paper into Katniss' hand and closed her fingers around it.

She wrenched her hand from his and threw the paper to the ground. Without crumpling it first, it only fluttered softly all the way down. It lacked the angry impact it was supposed to have. "Forget me. What about you? You can't go!"

"I have to. And so do you. It's not safe for you here anymore. You don't know what it's like out there." He pulled her into a strong hug and held her so tightly he almost feared he'd break her. "You have to go or everything I did, Liesel did, your mother did, will all have been for nothing. You want that?"

Katniss shook her head against his neck. "I just want you to be safe. Stay here. Hide here with me," she pleaded.

"You know I can't. And you have to go tonight." He released his grip on her and began to rifle through the brown messenger bag he carried with him. "You have to go tonight," he repeated as he found what he was looking for. "Promise me. Promise."

Katniss nodded, distracted by the copy of _Mein Kampf_ he had taken from his bag. He held it out to her.

"Carry this with you when you go," he instructed.

After one last strong embrace, Gale was gone. And something tugged at the back of her mind, telling her she would never see him again.

Once all of her tears had been shed, she curled up in the blanket and looked down at the piece of paper that landed face-up.

_Come to the side door. -Peeta_

XxXx

That night, when the moon was shining silver high in the clouds, she opened the door to the outside world for the first time in two years. The air was chilled with impending winter and she shifted uncomfortably in the tennis shoes Liesel left for her. She hadn't had shoes on her feet in so long, they pinched even though they were in her size. Standing there in the still of the night with the stars twinkling above, it was easy to imagine everything was back to normal. The air was sweet with fall and fresh apples and the only noise was the quiet hoot of an owl.

Katniss thought back to the days when things were good. Back before she had to trade or hide. Back when she and her mother walked to the bakery after school for a special treat at the end of a busy day. Even the little butterflies that always made themselves known in her stomach when she was on her way to see Peeta were fluttering to life.

But those times were gone.

Her life was at stake now.

Liesel's life. Gale's. And even Peeta's if they captured her and discovered where she was headed.

She knew the butterflies were only nerves. Before, they had been inexplicable. They would overwhelm her at the mere prospect of running into him and she didn't understand why. Now at least the nerves had a proper reason to make her shake.

_Don't let everyone's work be for nothing_, she thought, and pushed herself forward.

She stopped shortly, however, needing a moment to orient herself to the town again. She had been locked up for so long, she needed to reconstruct the visual map in her head. Katniss spun in a circle and spotted the fountain she and Gale used to jump in until they were chased away. Everything began to come back together and she realized that the bakery was a good fifteen minute walk from where she stood. She worried about spending so much time out in the open. Just because no one was on the street at that moment, the odds were against her in getting all the way to her destination unseen. She was not about to get caught before she even started.

That was not an option.

She clutched _Mein Kampf_ to her chest where all could see. With the book, her new clothes, and her freshly clean and braided hair, she could pass for any German citizen who actually had a right to walk down the street without hassle.

Katniss had just a few blocks to go when she was taken off course. The sight of a pack of Nazi soldiers sent her flying down a side street to flee from their vision. Her muscles were weak from two years of minimal usage, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins propelled her faster and faster. She finally collapsed in a dark alley to catch her breath. She closed her eyes and waited until she knew it would be safe to try again.

Once she caught her breath, she opened her eyes and looked around. She wasn't in an alley after all, but an old neighborhood. The windows of each building were shattered, debris still cluttered the street, and yellow stars angrily marked each doorway. A ghost town. It was the aftermath of Kristallnacht, she knew. What had happened to all who lived on this street? Captured? Dead? She stumbled backward, away from it all and continued on her trek to Peeta.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the Mellher sign came into view and she had seen no sign of anyone else. She slipped into the shadows of the building and reached for the doorknob. Her hand shook and she contemplated running away, but she forced herself to grasp the handle.

It was locked.

_Of course it's locked_, she thought. You don't leave your doors unlocked, not during this.

She looked around for a mat or potted plant that could hide a key, but there was nothing. The last thing she wanted to do was knock and call attention to her presence. She looked down at the book still clutched to her chest, noticing that the pages did not lie flat against the cover. She opened it and found a key taped inside.

In her haste to pull it out, she tore the page. She never cared less about defacing a book in her life.

She hardly had time to turn the key in the lock when the door flew open and she was being pulled inside. It was as though someone had been pacing the hall waiting for any sign of her.

He was taller and even more handsome than the picture she kept in her mind, but the piercing blue eyes that met her gaze could only belong to Peeta. He kicked the door shut with his foot and gripped her shoulders with his large, strong hands as he looked her over. His eyes were deep with concern. A line of worry creased his forehead.

"Are you all right?" he asked, but he sounded so far away and broken, like she was trying to hear him underwater.

His sharply defined features blurred together as all of the nervous energy was leeched from her body now that she no longer needed it.

And everything went black.

XxXx

Warm. It was such a foreign feeling to her. She snuggled deep into the sheets, clutching them tightly in fear of their warmth fading when she awoke from her dream. When she was in Liesel's basement, she would often dream of warm places; the park in mid-summer, the beach, her own bed.

But her own bed was small and made up of slightly scratchy sheets and a stiff comforter. Never had she felt something so soft as the blanket she held to her cheek.

_How could I dream it if I've never felt it?_ she wondered and cracked her eyes open. But the warmth didn't fade, and neither did the soft blankets or the plush mattress beneath her.

Fear pulled her upright as she realized that she had no idea where she was. And a severe dizzy spell sent her slumping back against the headboard.

"Whoa, careful. Don't move so fast." she heard a man's voice caution.

When the room stopped moving in waves around her, she slowly turned toward the source of the voice. Her heart stuttered as she came to find Peeta sitting beside the bed, concern in his beautiful eyes.

"I'm glad you're awake. I've been hoping to get some water into you since last night," he said. He held a glass to her lips, free hand behind her head as he coaxed small sips of water down her throat before she was awake enough to respond or fight him off.

When he took the glass away, she pulled her bottom lip in with her teeth and found it severely chapped. All she tasted was ragged skin and blood. She released it with a wince.

"I put some of this on you, but you should use it regularly until that heals," he said, placing a small jar of lip balm beside her. "It's split pretty bad from how dehydrated you are. And I know you're probably starving, but I don't have much for you yet. It's not good for you to eat a lot after having nothing for so long."

Katniss finally collected some of her faculties and shook her head gently. "Why?" Her voice was hoarse and resistant. "Why do you keep saving me?"

He sat back in his chair, looking perplexed by her question. He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "Any decent person would do the same," he muttered to the floor.

"No," she insisted. "They wouldn't." She glanced toward the window where the moonlight broke through the clouds. "What's going on out there is proof of that." She cleared her throat and reached for the water, which he pushed into her hand so quickly a little spilled out the top. Her voice began to come back stronger as the water soothed her scratchy throat and pounding headache. "There are a lot of decent people out there who are ignoring everything that's happening, going along with it to avoid trouble. People who would never risk their lives for some pathetic girl who can give you nothing in return."

Peeta shook his head. "Your safety is all I want."

Katniss was suddenly very aware that she was in his bedroom- in his bed. And she had no clue how to go about responding to him. How could this boy she hardly knew possibly care so much about what became of her? She toyed with her braid, finding pieces that had pulled free during her sleep. "Um, how long was I out?" she asked quietly.

"Since you got here last night. You slept pretty soundly all day."

"And your parents are okay with this?" she asked incredulously. There was absolutely no way his mother would allow any of it.

A strange look flashed across his features that she couldn't place. Fear? Sadness? She couldn't be sure. But Peeta shrugged one shoulder and changed the subject so quickly she didn't have time to dwell on it.

"Here," he said, holding his hand out to her. "Late birthday present."

She looked down at the fresh cheese roll on a napkin he handed her. She watched it in disbelief. "How… how did you know it was my birthday?"

"How could I not?" he chuckled. "Our first year in school when you turned six, you walked up to me and told me it was your birthday and I should sing to you."

Katniss gasped. "I did no such thing!"

"Yes, you did. You used to be quite an uninhibited little thing. It seemed like you lived for music class. You loved to sing so much and I think you assumed everyone else did, too," he smiled. "I told you I couldn't sing, but you looked so disappointed that I went home that night and made you-"

"A cupcake," she whispered, pulling the memory from a forgotten corner. "You decorated it with frosted flowers"

"I wanted to bake you a whole cake, but my dad assured me a cupcake was enough. He did most of the baking, but I insisted on decorating it which is why it was such a mess. I swear I've gotten better since then."

She knew he had. She saw his work in the bakery windows all the time. But the one he made for her birthday a decade ago remained her favorite.

"It was perfect. No one ever did anything like that for me before. Birthdays were for practical gifts, and we never had the money to buy a bakery cake. I can't believe you could remember my birthday after all that time," she said.

"You don't forget when the girl you love talks to you for the first time."

Katniss choked on a mouthful of water. "Love?"

She watched a deep red blush creep up his neck. "Well, I was six, you know and I…" he cleared his throat. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry." He peered up at her through his impossibly long lashes. "You really never knew how much I liked you, did you?"

The water glass felt too heavy to hold and she set it down on the side table with a shaky hand. She looked down at the roll. "How did you know I love these so much?" she asked quietly.

"You don't think I noticed how your face lit up when you'd see them in the box with your regular bread?"

Katniss shrugged, unaware that she showed any emotion in front of him before. Apparently, he had been paying much more attention to her than she ever realized.

She glanced over to the copy of Mein Kampf beside his bed- the Nazi uniform draped over a chair.

She knew their time together was limited and dangerous, but she couldn't help selfishly hoping to stay wrapped up in the comfort of Peeta for the rest of her life.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! I decided to make it longer than initially planned to make up for the wait! **

4  
_Dream Chaser_

He is their gleaming vision. Blond. Blue-eyed. Strong. Well-spoken. Christian. The perfect German.  
She is his target.  
They are both painfully aware of this fact. But it sits like a bomb in the center of the room that they glance at occasionally and tiptoe around, but never fully acknowledge. Praying it doesn't detonate.  
Knowing it will.

XxXx

Katniss turned the water up to what felt like its boiling point. She had never stood beneath a real shower before, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. The clawfoot tub at home was deep and difficult to get in and out of. By the time it filled completely, the water ran cold. Even so, she longed for it during the two years she bathed in a bathroom sink.

The shower was glorious. Although she had no idea of how to operate it, she refused to ask Peeta for help. Luckily, it wasn't as complicated as it first appeared.

Peeta had presented her with some of his clothes so he could wash hers while she showered. She pulled the long sleeves down around her hands and wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she looked around the house for him. His home was built above the bakery, and she walked with a feather-light tread, ensuring that no one below suspected an extra set of footfalls in the apartment. She peered into his bedroom, but there was no sign of him. Down the hall, she pushed open another door. This was also a bedroom, but the room had been ransacked; clothes strewn in every direction, a dresser upended, and the bed frame sat without its mattress. She backed out of the doorway and straight into Peeta, who put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"I'm sorry, I was just looking for you."

Peeta shook his head. "It's all right. You can look around. You live here now, too." He let his hands fall from her arms, leaving her with a longing to feel their warmth on her again. He walked ahead of her, beckoning her to follow behind.  
"How was the shower?" he asked as they arrived in the kitchen.

"Amazing," she said. "Thank you."

Peeta only smiled at her over his shoulder as he stirred something on the stove. His perfectly combed and neatly styled hair that went along with his HJ uniform was pleasantly disheveled. His blond curls fell over his forehead in the way they always used to when she watched him romp around the schoolyard. Katniss didn't trust the tingling electricity that shot through her veins when she looked at him for too long, and she cast her gaze away.

"Where are my clothes?" she asked.

"Not dry yet," he said. He took the pot off the stove and poured its contents between two bowls before turning his attention back to her. "You should keep mine, though. They look much better on you than me."

She was glad he looked away and missed the blush blossoming in her cheeks. He set the bowls down on the kitchen table.

"Come have some soup."

She looked around, wary of how out in the open she was, but she decided to join him at the table anyway.  
They ate in silence for a while before Katniss spoke up.

"Shouldn't I be hiding? In the basement or something? You're treating me like I'm a house guest."

Peeta swallowed a mouthful of his soup. "I could never put you in the basement. It's cold, it's dark, and it's too far away from me. I can protect you up here. I have set up space for you in the attic, but I don't want you hiding out up there unless it's necessary. Otherwise, you live here just as much as I do. Okay?"

Katniss gathered up a spoonful of vegetables in her bowl and dropped them back into the broth, watching them all bob back up to the surface. "Are you going to tell me what happened to your parents?" she asked, and raised her eyes to watch his reaction without lifting her head.

His shoulders slumped and he sat back in the chair. "They were a couple of cities away with the party. There was some kind of celebration for how successful the first few bombings in Britain had been." Tears welling in his eyes choked off his thoughts and he waited until he collected himself to begin speaking again. Katniss had been hearing about the bombings on the radio. The Nazi party was hell-bent on destroying Britain. Apparently Britain was stronger than Germany anticipated, however, because the latest reports were less than enthusiastic about the efforts. Katniss watched a tear fall down Peeta's cheek despite how he tried to blink them all away. "A plane flew overhead and dropped a bomb," he continued. "The entire city- flattened. My two older brothers were with them." He finally met Katniss' gaze with bleary eyes. "Nobody came home."

"Peeta," Katniss whispered. She knew there was nothing else she could say. Even if she knew the right thing to say, no words would provide any comfort. Gale had tried to comfort her with words about her mother. He tried to fill her with hope that maybe her mother got out, maybe she was still alive. But Katniss knew she was gone, and his words only left her with reminders of how alone she really was.

It made more sense to Katniss now why Peeta wanted her around, why he longed for her company. He was so lonely. At least she had Gale and Liesel when she was living in the basement. Peeta had no one.

She pushed back her chair and walked around the table to him. Before she could think better of it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to the top of his head. After a moment, she felt his hands at her waist as he pulled her into his lap and embraced her. She ran her fingers up through his hair and they held each other. Two teenage orphans with nothing else to hold onto.

XxXx

"I have to go back to school or somebody's going to come looking for me. I've been gone too long. I haven't been to Hitler Youth or anything since my family… Anyway, it's been almost a month," Peeta said as they sat by the fire after dinner. "So, I think you should stay in the attic while I'm away. I have Haymitch running the bakery during the day and if anyone downstairs hears you up here-"

"I know," Katniss said. "The attic is fine, thank you. I think I should just stay up there permanently, you know? It can't be safe for either of us with me walking around here out in the open. And it's not like I can continue sleeping in your bed."

"Sure you can." She watched as he tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into his hot chocolate. "I'm fine in a chair or the couch. Wherever."

"No, Peeta. Please, just show me how to get up to the attic and I'll stay there. I'd feel more comfortable," she lied. She had never felt more comfortable than she did in that moment, seated beside him in front of the flickering fire with hot chocolate warming them from the inside out. She dipped her last piece of bread in her drink and discovered the reason Peeta kept doing it.

"This is so good," she said as her gaze fell on a stack of books beside the couch. Charles Darwin, Magnus Hirschfeld, Albert Einstein. "Peeta," Katniss began, taking the top book from the pile: Job by Joseph Roth. "All of these these authors have been banned. What are you doing with their books?"

Peeta watched her flip through the pages of Job. "Some I've taken from the bookshop down the road after it was destroyed. It was owned by a Jewish man. My father and I watched them pillage the place and beat the man senseless. My father ran out to stop them before he realized what he was doing. Upstanding members of the Nazi party are supposed to condone that behavior, not stop it, you know? So I cowered behind the curtains and watched both the shop owner and my father get whipped until they could hardly move. Then they tossed the man into a truck and took off." He took a moment to shake the memory of his broken father. "Most of the books were ruined, but I pulled a few from the rubble later on. The others I snatched from piles to be burned at HJ celebrations."

Katniss' eyes snapped up to meet his. How stupid could he be? "You're just trying to get killed aren't you? You're begging for it."

He shrugged and drained his hot chocolate. "None of us are going to make it out of here alive. But I won't let them change me." He picked up his Hitler Youth jacket that had been tossed aside on the floor. "This," he said, motioning to the swastika, "is not who I am. Everybody is so afraid, that they'll do whatever they have to do to stay alive. But what's the point in living if you're going to be their puppet? What the hell is the point of life if you're willing to spit on all you know is right and good just to stay alive? They'll kill me, sure, but at least my life is my own. I'll know that I died as myself, not one of them."

Despite the stupidity, Katniss decided, at least she could respect him.

He poked at the fire and added another log. Katniss tried to keep her eyes from lingering on the way his sinewy muscles moved beneath the t-shirt he wore. All those years of wrestling in school and hauling flour around the bakery had been good to him.

XxXx

"Well, here's the attic," Peeta said woefully.

She had finally convinced him to bring her up. No matter how much he wanted to remain in her company, she said she would feel safer upstairs. He wasn't about to add to her stress by holding her where she felt she was in danger. The attic door had been carefully hidden behind the wall in the hallway closet.

"We never had a finished attic while I was growing up. Even I forget it's here sometimes. It was just a dusty mess full of bags of baby things. My father fixed it up a few years ago when he realized what was going on with the Nazis and the Jews. He thought we might need to help some people and he didn't even want my mother to find out what he was doing. She noticed, though, when he added the small window. He just told her it was a new place for me to paint so I stop making a mess in my room. She never questioned it again since she was always so afraid I'd ruin the carpets."

"He did a good job," Katniss said as she arrived at the top of the staircase. She was shocked by how warm and well-lit it was. A large mattress with thick, plush bedding like Peeta's was set up along the wall. There was even a small bathroom.

"There's no bath in there," Peeta said, catching her gazing into the walled-off area with a toilet and sink. "But you can just come downstairs to shower. Or, any time you want. Okay?"

Katniss nodded. "Thank you."

But she didn't go to him. She had been bathing in a sink for two years, she could certainly continue to do so if it would keep them both safe. If Peeta was determined to run around looking for trouble, she wasn't going to add to his chances of being caught. The only time she saw him was when he brought food to her after school or work at the bakery. He could only keep it open a few days a week with Haymitch as his only employee, but he seemed to be taking in enough money to keep going.

Their exchanges grew to be generally as awkward as they had been when Katniss used to trade for bread. Until one day, Peeta came running home and burst into the attic without even knocking. He carried with him a book in an only slightly familiar language.

"Is this English?" Katniss asked, poking through the book as Peeta caught his breath.

He nodded. "It's Job translated." He picked up the German copy of the book which sat near her mattress. "So we can teach ourselves English. We can figure it out from reading the two side-by-side. They taught us the basics in school, remember? That should help."

"Why?" She wondered. Why would they possibly waste their time learning such a useless skill when there was a deadly war being waged on the other side of the wall?

"We're getting out of here. We'll go to America."

She held his gaze for a moment. He looked so enthusiastic, she felt bad for crushing his spirit. But he couldn't be serious. "It's a nice dream, Peeta, but you know it will never happen."

"Yes it will," he asserted. "I will find a way. I won't let you die here like this."

"They'll catch us. I won't let you die for me. I'll turn myself in before it comes to that." She crossed her arms and shrugged.

"Don't be crazy. There's nothing left for me here. I want to do this for you."

"And you think there's something left for me? I have nothing, Peeta! That's not going to change whether I'm here or across the ocean."

"You have Gale. And I promised him I'd keep you safe."

Katniss shook her head. "My father fought for this country. And they killed my mother, took my best friend, and now I can't even walk outside. You can't keep me safe. Not in this hell."

His elation at the idea of America completely deflated and Katniss felt the sting in her heart.

"I have to go down to the bakery for a while."

Katniss nodded, unable to look at the sadness in his eyes, knowing she put it there.

She fell asleep that night with images of shattered homes and screaming children on the night of Kristallnacht. The pain on her mother's face. The determination on Gale's. The sadness in Peeta's eyes. She was plagued with nightmares as her brain concocted images of the horrors relayed on the radio, imagining Gale in the middle of it, Peeta eventually having to join him, the endless list of torturous ways her mother may have been killed. Through the pull of her dreams, she was vaguely aware that she was screaming, her face wet with sweat and tears. Her dreams turned the dampness of her skin into blood, drowning her slowly.

And then something pulled her free. Something her sleep-addled brain couldn't comprehend, but suddenly, the hellish visions subsided, her screams died in her throat, and she fell into a deeper sleep than she had since before Hitler- which was the majority of her life.

When she woke in the morning, she half-expected to find some explanation for her restful night, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, just her usual breakfast of toast and orange juice by the door that Peeta left every morning before he left.

As she ate, her gaze kept falling to the English book. Although escaping was a silly dream, she supposed it wouldn't hurt to give her brain something new to learn. There was a pencil tucked in the middle of the book which she extracted and looked around for blank paper. Of course, there was none. And she wasn't about to brave a trip downstairs. She glanced up at the wall ahead of her and began scrawling the words she knew onto a plank of wood.

She quickly became so absorbed in the material, she didn't even hear Peeta enter the room.

"Wow," he said.

Katniss jumped, her pencil falling to the floor. The cramp in her hand was the first clue as to how many hours she had spent in this position. She turned to Peeta, eyes wide. She hadn't meant to write all over his walls. "I'm sorry, I was, I mean I just-"

"Hey, it's okay," he assured her. "Looks like you're doing pretty well there." He sat beside her on the mattress and inspected her words. "Does this mean you've changed your mind?"

"About America? No. But, you know, there's nothing else to do all day."

"Right. Well, can I join you?"

Katniss handed him the pencil. "Why don't you circle all the words you don't know on the wall and we can move on together from there."

XxXx

It became a new routine. Each night, her nightmares subsided more and more, clearing her mind for new learning. When Peeta came home from school or work, he brought dinner up to the attic where they slowly but surely became fluent in the English language.

They ran out of wall space and began filling up notebooks with vocabulary, grammar rules, and proper sentence structure. Peeta brought home everything he could find in the English language. By the time they turned seventeen, they could hold full conversations together in English without the slightest confusion.

It was just days after Katniss turned seventeen, she got her first letter from Gale in almost six months. It was addressed to Peeta, but he knew it was not meant for him. Although the letter assured Katniss he was safe, it reminded her of the horror going on outside the walls of Peeta's attic. And the nightmares returned with rage that night.

She woke in the early dawn, the light streaming through the tiny window on the far wall. Despite her wretched night, she felt surprisingly calm. It was then she felt the strong arms wrapped around her, the warm, hard body against her back. Her instinct should have been to scream, to run, but it felt so right she curled in closer. She realized that her fingers were entwined with the fingers of whomever was holding her, and she squeezed a little tighter. Katniss slowly turned her head to face her source of comfort.

Peeta, who always wore such a look of distress, carrying the burden a grown man should never have to bear, was just a seventeen-year-old boy. And seeing his sleeping face, relaxed and calm beside her own, reminded her of that fact.

She watched him sleep, felt his arm tighten around her waist and draw her closer, and she finally placed her palm on his cheek, absently twisting a blond curl by his ear around her finger as she tried to make sense of his presence, of why he was risking his life to keep her, of why it felt so damn perfect to be here wrapped in his warmth.

His eyelids fluttered open just a crack and his eyes focused on her face. A sleepy smile overtook his face for just a moment and disappeared while Katniss was still trying to memorize the way it crinkled around his eyes and made the blue of his irises even more striking.

"Oh, Katniss, I'm sorry," he rushed in his slurred, heavy voice. He untangled himself from her and sat up abruptly, leaving her cold and alone on the mattress.

"No, wait," she sat up and looped her hand around his arm. She felt the muscles tense at her touch, but he glanced over his shoulder to find her bewildered expression.

"I'm usually up and out of here before you're awake. I think I overslept."

Katniss raised an eyebrow. "Usually? You make a habit of sleeping with me?"

A hot blush crept up his neck. "I, uh… I mean, I hear you. At night. You scream and cry with nightmares. It seems to calm you down when I stay with you, even though you never really wake up."

"I'm sorry I've been disturbing your sleep."

He laughed softly. "You haven't."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Another long wait, I apologize! I am working on a novel that is taking up most of my writing time lately. I almost posted this as a mini-chapter just to get an update out there, but it felt rushed and half-assed, so I took my time and now I have a nice long chapter for you! Thank you to all of the reviewers and followers! I never imagined this story would get half of the attention it has. I'm so thankful for all of you! Enjoy :) **

* * *

5  
_False Sense of Security_

"How do I say _krieg_ in English? I can't remember."

Peeta looked up from the book he was reading to find Katniss hunched over a notebook, tapping a pencil absently against her forehead.  
"War," he said, watching her silver eyes light up with recognition as she wrote down the word. He closed his book and rolled to his side on her mattress, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at her. "What are you doing?"

Katniss drew the notebook to her chest protectively. "Nothing."

"Come on," he pleaded, his sapphire eyes like saucers. "Don't start hiding things from me now."

She flipped the edges of the pages with her finger. "I'm just practicing my English. That's all," she mumbled and glanced up at him through her dark lashes. He fixed her with a stare, one eyebrow raised. Katniss slowly released her grip on the book and let it fall back down into her lap. "I'm writing… about my dad. And my mom. Gale."

"Everyone who's been taken from you," Peeta mused.

"Not just from me. Everyone who was taken too soon or thrown into the chaos of this ridiculous war." She looked up. "I was actually wondering if you would tell me more about your family, too. I don't want anyone to be forgotten."

The emotion in his eyes was unclear, but he looked touched if not sad and slightly lost.  
"Sure," he said finally. "Can I see what you've written?"

Katniss reluctantly handed the book over to him and twisted the blanket nervously in her hands as he read. Her fingers ached from clutching it so tightly by the time he finished the last page.

"This is a really nice way to honor their memories," he said, "and sacrifices," he added, looking down at Gale's page. Peeta glanced at the blank left-hand side of the page. "If you want, I could paint them for you."

"Really?"

"Sure. Why don't we go down to my room to work. All of my paint supplies are there."

A line of worry creased Katniss' forehead. "I don't think I should leave."

Peeta stood and smiled. "It's not like we're going outside." He extended a hand to her. "Come on."

She grasped his strong hand without thinking anything more than wanting to feel his skin against hers. Any contact between them lately had been purely accidental. The only time she got to enjoy that feeling was when he was lost in a deep sleep and his arm brushed against her torso where her shirt had risen up, or their legs bumped together while one of them was tossing and turning. She had come to realize that she couldn't sleep without him beside her.

Every night when he joined her in bed, she snuggled in close to him under the guise of sleep. She hadn't realized how starved she was for human contact until Peeta enveloped her in his warm, steady embrace each night. And increasingly, she had been yearning for more, but didn't know how to ask for it. She wasn't brave enough to cuddle up to him while they were both fully conscious, not since she leaned into him a few days ago in the early hours of sunrise and earned a low, pleasured groan from his throat. The sound seemed to rouse them both, and Peeta rushed off to the bathroom before Katniss had a chance to say a word. He was embarrassed by his body's reaction to her, and Katniss was embarrassed by how much the feeling of him against her back and his sounds against her ear had turned her on.

He squeezed her hand with reassurance as he helped her to her feet, and kept their fingers locked together all the way down the steps to his room. She forgot how comforting his home was. It was a disheveled mess as one would expect from a seventeen-year-old boy, but it was reassuring to Katniss that he was truly there. He was with her through it all. Peeta kicked a pile of clothes out of the way once they stepped into his room. He rummaged through his art supplies while Katniss hovered in the doorway.

He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled. "You coming in?"

Katniss clutched the journal to her chest and took a few steps inside.

"I know it's a disaster zone in here, but you can make yourself comfortable. It's gonna take me a while to paint everybody and I really need your help describing things to me."

She sat on the corner of his bed and watched him gather up his paint and pens. He tucked one pen behind his ear and trapped another between his teeth as picked out the necessary brushes. His blond curls fell over his eyes, muscles rippling in his arms when he pulled his chair over to the bed. Smudges of flour decorated his forearms from his earlier work downstairs.

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him. _When did he get so damn sexy and who told him it was okay?_

"This was just a ruse to get me in your bed again, wasn't it?"

Peeta looked up and and smiled behind the pen in his teeth. "Maybe," he said playfully and nudged her foot with his as he sat down. Katniss looked down at her lap, hoping to hide the blush rising up into her cheeks.

"Okay, now you'll have to help me out here with your dad, but I think I can recall your mom pretty well. Why don't you watch while I work and correct anything that's off?"

Katniss agreed, but found herself watching Peeta more than whatever he was painting. The concentration on his face was so intense, so precise with every stroke of his brush. He almost didn't even seem to be in the room with her anymore. He was on another plane, where only he and his art existed.

"What do you think?" he asked without taking his eyes off of his work.

"Perfect," Katniss whispered without even glancing down at the paper.

Peeta looked up through his lashes and caught her staring at him. She dropped her gaze immediately, but not fast enough to escape the small smile on his face.

She didn't have much time to ruminate on her embarrassment, however, as she was so taken by the portrait of her mother. Katniss gasped, "Oh, Peeta, she's beautiful."

"Just like her daughter."

Katniss looked up and found him still watching her. "I'm- I don't- I don't look like her," she stammered, forgetting how to muster a simple, 'thank you'.

Peeta only chuckled and went back to work. Katniss knew she needed to get their conversation going in an entirely different direction. And fast. They couldn't afford for things to get any more awkward between them than they already were.

"How do you do it, Peeta? Keep up with this house and your job, school, HJ, not to mention hiding me? I mean, I think I would have cracked under all that pressure by now."

"No you wouldn't. You're strong. And if a little extra pressure meant keeping someone you love alive, you could do it too."

_Someone he loves?_ Katniss thought. So much for moving into less awkward territory. She recalled her first day here over a year ago when he dropped the "L" word in similar fashion. He continued speaking, however, as though he didn't even realize what he had said.

"I'm just doing what I have to. Haymitch is a lot of help downstairs. He's really the one who's keeping the business open." Peeta paused and dipped his brush in a cup of water. "I think some of the guys at HJ are wondering what's going on since I've missed meetings. That's mostly just because I don't feel like enduring whatever torture they have cooked up every day."

"Like what?" Katniss asked, pulling her knees up to her chin. Peeta put the finishing touches on her mother's eyes.

"Well, all they're doing is preparing us for the war. So most of the time the meetings are nothing but endurance tests and drills. It's fun sometimes when I get to use my wrestling, but usually it's just a pain in the ass."

"Peeta, you shouldn't be skipping meetings."

"I can handle them," he assured her. "All right, this just has to dry for a while." He set the open notebook on his bedside table. "Do you want something to eat?"

Katniss nodded. "Sounds good."

They both lost track of the time, aware of nothing except how much they enjoyed each other's company. Peeta entertained her with stories of the meatheads at HJ and memories of making a mess in the kitchen with his father. For a boy who experienced so much tragedy in life, he certainly knew how to focus on the good. At some point, they found themselves side-by-side on his bed with writings and drawings propped up against the pillows, talking and laughing until the stars were high in the sky.

Katniss blinked in the moonlight shining through the window across from Peeta's bed.

_Peeta's bed. How did I fall asleep in here?_

She adjusted her arms beneath the pillow as her eyes settled on his face. _That's how._ He lay beside her, mirroring her position on his stomach with his arms under his head, those stubborn curls forever falling into his eyes.

Katniss pulled her hand out from beneath the pillow and brushed his hair back.

"Peeta?" she whispered.

"Hmm," was all he could muster.

She considered all she wanted to say to him; to question again why he was so good to her, to ask what she could possibly do in return, to thank him. But she was never very good at expressing her feelings, and all of her words got stuck.

When it seemed as though he had fallen back asleep, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. His eyes cracked open with a tired smile.

"What was that for?" his voice thick with sleep.

"Everything," she whispered.

He propped himself up on his elbows. "I don't know, I was a little unconscious just now. I need a do-over," he said, hovering inches above her face.

Katniss rolled onto her back and met his hungry gaze. "In your dreams," she said, turning away from him and closing her eyes.

Peeta collapsed face-first back down to his pillow. "You're always in my dreams."

Katniss hid her smile into the pillow, inhaling the scent of him as she drifted off to sleep again.

The next time she woke, she felt the weight of Peeta's arm around her waist. She turned in his loose grasp and found that he was already awake.

"Good morning," he said, making no move to draw his arm away from her.

"Morning," she returned.

He tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear. "No nightmares."

Katniss shook her head. "No. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you ever have any nightmares?" she wondered.

"Sometimes," Peeta replied. "But I'm fine when I realize you're still here." He sat up and stretched his arms. "Breakfast?"

Katniss propped herself up on one elbow. "Actually, can I… could I, um, take a shower?"

"Of course you can. You remember where the bathroom is?"

She nodded. "Thank you."

Katniss stood beneath the stream of water, wondering why she had to be so stubborn about staying upstairs. What could really go so wrong if she slipped down here for a hot shower every once in a while?

When she was feeling more relaxed than she could ever remember being, the bathroom door flew open. Katniss jumped and wiped the water from her eyes just as the curtain was being pulled back. Peeta's hand flew to her mouth before she could scream, but the shock in her eyes was fierce.

"Shh," Peeta pleaded. "They're here." Trusting her not to make a sound, he took his hand away and pulled off his shirt, tossing it out to the floor, covering her pile of clothing.

Katniss wasn't sure who was meant by "they", but she had a few good guesses. And none of them would end well for the two teenagers, soaking wet in the shower. Peeta reached out again and pulled a towel in, holding it up for Katniss to shield herself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "They were banging on the door about some security check."

Katniss stood frozen, clutching the towel to her front as the warm water beat against her back. She heard them clomping around the house, rifling through things, calling for Peeta.

All she could think of was the notebook.

The notebook that lay open in Peeta's room.

The notebook filled with such treasonous words surely punishable by death.

"Hey," Peeta's hoarse whisper called her back. "It's gonna be okay." And he managed a very convincing smile as he pushed a wet lock of hair away from her forehead.

Despite her terror, she couldn't keep her eyes from roaming the expanse of his chest, the definition of his muscle, the smudges of yesterday's flour as they washed away from his skin and swirled down the drain.

The voices grew closer and her eyes snapped back up to his.

"Peet!"

"I'm in the shower!" Peeta called out, never moving his eyes from Katniss'.

The bathroom door, which Peeta did not latch behind him, was nudged open once again.

"Peeta, what the hell! We've been looking all over for you," a young man's voice said.

Peeta finally turned away from Katniss and yanked the curtain open just enough to reveal his upper body.

"Would you get out of here? Damn, what the hell is wrong with you, Brute? I'll be out in a minute."

Brutus, still in his Hitler Youth uniform, held his hands up in surrender as he backed out of the bathroom. Peeta turned back to Katniss.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered again.

She finally found her voice. "Would you stop apologizing for saving my life? I'm the one who owes you the apologies here."

Peeta leaned into her. She could feel the heat rising from his damp skin and wanted nothing more than to drop her towel and feel him against her, to cling to him during her last moments in this world. He reached around her and turned off the water.

"Stay here," he whispered against her ear and stepped out of the tub.

She braved a peek around the curtain and watched him add his pants to the floor and pick up another towel to wrap around his waist. She willed them to survive this day- if only to see more of _that_.

When he disappeared from the bathroom, she sealed the curtain up tight and sank to the floor.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Peeta's tone was instantly angry.

"Standard safety check, Mellher," a new voice replied. It was older and deeper than Brutus'. "We are sussing out all possible bomb shelter locations."

"That's bullshit!" Peeta threw right back at him. "Does this look like the fucking basement to you? What are you doing in my house?"

"Calm down," the man sounded bored with Peeta's hissy fit.

"No! You _know_ the bakery basement is a bomb shelter location. That was sorted out months ago. And even if you were rechecking, that doesn't explain what you're all doing up here!"

Brutus spoke again. "We just need to check everything out, you know? People are talking. About where you are all the time. Why you're taking home all this extra food, you were carrying around a_ banned_ book the other day, missing meetings-"

"You really have that little faith in me?" Peeta demanded. "You think I'm dishonoring all of the work we're doing? You honestly think I would undermine the entire purpose of this fight and betray all of you?"

His words struck Katniss. They were so genuine, so sincere they momentarily made her question where his true loyalties lay.

"Well, no, I mean, _I_ certainly didn't but-" Brutus was cut off by yet another new voice, but Katniss knew this voice well. Haymitch.

"What in the hell is going on up here? All your ruckus is disrupting business downstairs! Get the fuck out, all of ya! Leave the boy alone. You don't think he's got enough going on right now, keeping up a business, a home, school, Youth, that he needs to deal with this nonsense? You think he'd take the time, let alone the risk to harbor a Jew? Jesus Christ. Get out!"

Katniss heard their heavy boots tromping back down the steps until all was quiet again.

"You all right, boy?" Haymitch asked. Peeta must have nodded because Haymitch continued, "Good. Be careful." And the door closed behind him.

What Katniss didn't see was the way Haymitch's eyes lingered on the two bowls full of cereal on the kitchen counter, or the knowing look in his eyes as he warned Peeta to be careful.

Several minutes passed before Peeta returned to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

"Katniss? You can come out now."

She dressed quickly and twisted her wet hair into a sloppy braid to keep it out of her face. It had been years since she had it cut and it was getting unmanageable. She pulled the door open slowly and was met with Peeta's ever-reassuring face.

"I never should have come down here," she said, avoiding his perfectly blue eyes as she pushed past him. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist but she wrenched free. "I should have never come here in the first place when I left Liesel's last year. I'm going to get you killed! I'm leaving, that's it. I can't do this anymore. If they're meant to find me, they'll find me. I'm done putting your life in danger, too."

Peeta grasped her arm a bit more firmly and pulled her into him, holding her strongly against his chest.

"That's too bad, because I'm not letting you go."

"You can't make me stay," she mumbled half-heartedly against his skin.

Peeta held her face in his hands until she brought her eyes up to meet his. "Are you sure about that?"

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**A/N: Aaah sorry to end there! The next chapter will pick up right in this spot, I promise. I'm excited for what's coming up next, so I don't anticipate another long wait! (littleduckbuttercup on tumblr if you have questions or want to chat!)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, lovelies! I'm sorry if I missed a few review replies last time around. I saw all reviews, but I was replying from my phone and I feel like some of my messages didn't go through properly. But thank you so much for all of your kind and helpful words! Enjoy :)**

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_6_  
_don't stop_

Katniss shook her head almost imperceptibly. Of course she didn't want to leave him, but what other choice was there? It would only be selfish to stay.  
Peeta held her tightly against his bare chest.

"You can't go. We're both dead if you walk out now. You haven't seen it out there lately."

"You didn't tell me they have been searching homes for Jews," she said, still clinging to his torso, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

Peeta wrapped his hands around her upper arms and forced her back a few inches to look into his eyes.

"It doesn't matter because they're not going to find you. They're not laying a hand on you, okay?"

Katniss nodded slightly and leaned back into the warm comfort of him. If the situation were ever to reverse itself, or the opportunity arose, she vowed in that moment to keep Peeta safe. It was the least she could do for all of the trouble she caused him.

"Come on back to my room. You can dry off and warm up by the fire."

"What?" She demanded, abruptly pulling away from him. "I need to get back up to the attic and never come out."

"Katniss, they've already been here, they're not coming back. Not for a long while, anyway. You're safe. I promise."

"And what about you? Are you safe?"

He studied her for a long moment, avoiding her question, gazing intently into the silver puddles of her eyes. He smoothed his hand up her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake that Katniss knew had nothing to do with the chill in the air on her wet skin. He cupped her jaw and idly traced her cheekbone with his thumb.

"Come on," he whispered, and she followed him back to his room.

The brick fireplace built into the bedroom wall had gone unnoticed by her until this moment. The flicker of the firelight was mesmerizing, but she couldn't take her eyes off of Peeta as he added another log. She found herself wishing he hadn't put his clothes back on. She tugged at the collar of her button-down shirt that once belonged to Peeta. It's loose neck suddenly strangled her. She pulled the top button open and held some of the fabric up to her nose. It still smelled like him.

"You haven't told me much," she said. "About the war, I mean." She had been so busy reading, writing, and enjoying Peeta's bakery treats that she had been forgetting to keep up with the radio news with increasing frequency. The war was about the last thing she wanted to discuss, but she needed something serious to pull her mind from her fantasies and back into reality. Peeta finished poking at the fire and sat in front of her, clasping his arms around his knees.

"You haven't asked," he said. "And I honestly can't say much about it that doesn't make me sick." He squinted against the bright sun streaming through the window. The fire crackled beside them. He stared out at the tree tops for so long, she began to think he was not going to offer any more. He finally exhaled loudly and looked back at her.

"It's bad. And it's getting worse every day." The intensity with which he stared at her made her feel self-conscious and she began combing through the ends of her damp braid with her fingers, hoping it disguised the shaking of her hands.  
"The other day, they took a young disabled boy from his home, saying he belonged in a place that could better care for him. And they killed him."

"What!" Katniss shrieked. "Why?"

Peeta shook his head and stood up. His pacing around the room began to make Katniss nervous.

"He wasn't part of _the vision_. He would only make us look _weak_. He had no worth to Hitler and his goons."

He snatched up the copy of _Mein Kampf_ from the bedside table and ripped a chunk of pages from the middle, letting them float down around him. But it didn't help. It wasn't enough. He turned away from Katniss and hurled the book across the room where it slammed the wall with a satisfying slap and a thud on the floor. Peeta pulled at his hair and practically fell back down to the floor. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

"God. I watched it happen. I watched as they pulled him out of the truck and shot him in the head." He looked up at Katniss, tears brimming over. "And they _cheered_. They _cheered_ when he hit the ground. And I am part of this," he choked on his words and buried his head in his hands again. Katniss crawled closer to him and placed her hand on his knee.

"No. You're not," she asserted. "You're not."

"I'm not doing anything to stop it! I say I don't want to be like them, but I'm just as bad. I'm just standing by, watching."

"You'd be killed! You know that."

"That shouldn't scare me. Hundreds of innocent people are being killed every day. Why am I so afraid to stand up for them? Why is running away to a safer country my _big plan_? I'm nothing but a coward."

Katniss shook her head. "You saved me. You've lost everything and you're still fighting for me."

He slowly moved his hands away from his face and let one drop to hers. He traced the soft skin on the back of her hand. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, sounding as young and innocent as he looked in sleep.

"Of course," she whispered.

"I don't stay with you at night just for you. I come to you because… you help keep the nightmares away for me, too."

Katniss could only nod, wishing to be better with words, wishing she could open up to him and explain the feeling that swelled up inside her every time she was with him. How she ached for him to come home when he left on school days. How she only felt safe and whole when she felt his warmth beside her, listened to his stories, or glimpsed the other world deep within himself every time he painted. But she could not explain the feeling to herself. How could she voice it to him? It was a warmth, a comfort that sped up her heart and made her every cell buzz with excitement.  
She felt his fingers close over hers.

"I'll be eighteen soon, you know," he said. "They can take me away any time after that."

"Don't say that," she said, eyes burning with tears. Thoughts of the day Gale left wrapped around her heart and squeezed too tightly.

"I don't even want to think about it, but it's a possibility. So, we need to find you another place to go. Just in case."

Katniss shook her head furiously, the tears blurring her vision. "No. I can't… I mean, I don't," she sighed in frustration. "You can't-"

Peeta leaned in and tenderly fit his mouth to hers. He pulled away too quickly and averted his eyes from her stare. A deep blush crept all the way up into his ears and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Sorry, but I've wanted to do that since the day you told me to sing to you."

"So, you- you pick now?" She squeaked, running her fingers across her lips, already missing Peeta's warmth. All distress from their previous conversation forgotten in an instant.

The look on her face could only be described as shock. Peeta wasn't sure if she was about to slap him or yell at him, but he was not at all prepared for Katniss to throw herself into his arms and kiss him with twice the ferocity he had used. Frozen momentarily, his lips finally responded. His hands gingerly cupped her face, afraid if he moved too harshly she would disappear altogether. But this wasn't a dream.

He traced her cheekbones with his thumbs and his fingers found their way into her hair. It was still damp and her hasty braid which had not been tied off properly wasn't holding well. Peeta was glad because it was rather simple to work the loose plait out with his fingers and fan her hair out around her shoulders. Small moans escaped from the back of her throat every time he tugged slightly on her hair and he shifted against the new tightness in his pants. She knew she should be embarrassed by her vocalizations, just as he was embarrassed that morning in bed when they woke up a little too close together, but he just felt so good.

His hands left her hair and trailed lovingly down her arms until he abruptly grasped her small waist and pulled her into his lap, her slight thighs entrapping his hips. She settled directly against the growing bulge between his legs, eliciting a groan from them both. Neither had the wherewithal to be embarrassed anymore.

His tongue traced across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to him, eager to draw him closer. He grasped her lip between his teeth before darting in to chase her tongue with his own. They swallowed each other's muffled sighs and Katniss could no longer stand the pressure building in her core. She instinctively rocked her hips into his, moaning at the pleasure of the friction she was seeking. When she moved again, Peeta's hips rose from the floor, meeting her with a deep groan she felt reverberate through her entire being. She grasped fistfuls of his shirt, needing to feel him against her.

"Take it off," she sighed into his mouth and he hastily broke away to tear the shirt over his head, ripping some of the stitching apart as he did, and tossed it aside. His mouth covered hers again before the shirt even hit the floor, and he blindly went to work on her buttons. After carefully pulling the first two buttons from their respective holes, he yanked the shirt open with a growl. Small plastic buttons rained down on the wooden floor around them and he faltered when he discovered she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Katniss wrapped her hands around his wrists and brought them up to her chest.

"Don't stop," she sighed, and his hands gently kneaded her breasts. She arched into his touch, encouraging him for more, and he was soon emboldened by the effect he was having on her. He slid his hands down to her waist and stood up, pulling her with him. He hooked his hands around the tops of her thighs and lifted her up until her legs wrapped around his hips again. Knees weak and unsteady, he somehow made it across the room to his bed where they collapsed in a heap and went to work on ridding each other of the rest of their clothing.

"Why did we bother getting dressed, again?" He questioned with a smile as he stepped out of his pants. "We could have just hopped back in the shower, you know."

Katniss barely mustered a smile and a shake of her head before locking her hands around the back of his neck and pulling him back to her.  
He settled his weight above her, holding himself up on his forearms, and his lower body sank between her open legs. She began trailing kisses along his jawline up to his ear, where she gently teased him with her teeth. His hips bucked forward with a moan and he could feel the heat radiating from her core through their thin layers of underwear. He reached down between them and slipped his fingers past the fabric of her panties. His head fell into the curve of her neck as he realized just how ready she was for him.

He was inexperienced with the female anatomy, but he recalled spying on his older brothers' sex talks, and remembered that there was something he was supposed to find. When her sighs and the gentle motion of her hips suddenly burst with a sharp thrust and a cry of ecstasy, he knew he was in the right place. He pulled his hand away with a whimper of protest from Katniss, only to pull the obstructive fabric down and off of her body completely. He returned to her, working her with his fingers until she was shuddering and boneless beneath him.

He covered her with kisses until she came back to herself, and she eyed his almost painful erection straining against his underwear between them. She gently scraped her nails down his chest to the elastic band at his hips. Her fingers danced along the surface, feeling unsure until she looked into his eyes. They were so dark, his pupils so fat with desire that there was merely a sliver of brilliant blue left at all. She slowly tugged down on the elastic and released him carefully, eyeing him hungrily. He thought he was done for right then.

With a shaky hand, she grasped him in an experimental but firm hold and he cried out in pleasure against her neck. His words of turning eighteen crept into her mind. She could lose him forever. She could just wake up one day and he would be gone from her life for good.

She raked her fingers through his hair and whispered in his ear, "I need you."

He pulled himself up slightly, knowing he was not going to make it if he didn't move quickly. Once positioned at her entrance he looked into her eyes with concern.

"I don't want to hurt you."

She bit her lip and glanced down at where they were so nearly joined. "It's all right. I'll be fine. Just be with me."

Peeta kissed her deeply, hoping to provide her some distraction until he was fully sheathed inside of her. He swallowed her whimpers and stilled above her. He ran his thumb across her cheekbone.

"Are you all right?"

Katniss bit her lip and nodded, tilting her hips to let him know it was okay to move. It was more discomfort than pain, and she was anxious to get to feeling as good as his hand made her feel minutes ago.

Despite how he attempted to downplay how much pleasure he was feeling, she could tell. It shocked her that she could actually make a man feel such things. He muffled another moan against her skin. The discomfort she felt was beginning to give way to a more pleasurable feeling, but she supposed it would take some getting used to before she could enjoy this as much as he was.

"I can't. Last. Much longer," he panted apologetically.

Katniss nodded quickly as his movements became erratic until he stilled above her with a deep guttural moan that made her tighten around him. His arms seemed to give out and his weight came down on her. Though he felt heavy, she wrapped her arms around his back and held him there.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, cocooned around each other, neither willing to let go first. Peeta finally shifted of of her and pulled her into his chest.

He combed his fingers through her hair languidly. "I wish I could live in this moment forever. Just us. And we would never have to deal with everything that's going on out there."

Katniss hummed her assent and pulled herself closer into him.

But their moment was shattered with a rap on the door.

Peeta's arms tightened around Katniss. Their hearts seemed to cease beating, unable to handle the crushing fear bursting through their veins. After a moment, Katniss pulled out of his grasp.

"Go answer it. You don't need anyone else thinking something suspicious is going on here. Maybe it's just Haymitch or something."

He reluctantly slipped out of bed and looked around for his pants. Peeta knew Haymitch would be hard at work downstairs by now. Haymitch also never found knocking to be a necessity when entering Peeta's home.

Peeta was still pulling his pants on as he walked out toward the kitchen, where the door down to the bakery was located. Katniss slipped into his button- down shirt and tiptoed behind him, hiding around the corner. He pressed in close to the peep hole in the door and studied it before more rapid knocking caused him to jump back.

"Peeta!" Katniss whispered harshly. "Open the door."

"It's a soldier," he said, his face ghostly pale. Katniss eyed the closet across the way that contained the hidden attic door. She wondered if she could scurry over to it and run upstairs quickly and quietly enough.

"It's not a German," his voice called her from her thoughts. "He's American."

Peeta gestured for Katniss to conceal herself. Once hidden from sight, he reached for the knob and pulled the door open slowly. The soldier straightened and removed his hat, revealing a head of bronze hair that was slightly longer than regulation.

"Peeta Mellher?" The soldier questioned.

Peeta narrowed his eyes, sizing the man up, from his dirty brown boots to the American flag on his sleeve to his mint green eyes.

"May I help you, sir?"

The minty eyes widened at the perfect English that fell from the German's mouth, and he seemed to momentarily forget what he came for.

"Uh, I'm sorry for the intrusion. I'm Finnick Odair and I come from the United States."

"Yes, I can see that," Peeta said, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

Finnick nodded and smoothed his hands down his uniform. He pulled in a deep breath and stole Peeta's with his next words.

"I'm here for Katniss."

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**Hmmmmm, so what do we make of Finnick showing up at Peeta's? I have already started working on the next chapter to try and lessen the lag between updates. Hopefully one of these days I will get one chapter ahead of myself so I'll always have something ready to post for you! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! **


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